“Whoa, Mom, slow down,” her daughter Kelsey says, bracing a hand up on the dash.
“I can’t, I’m gonna be late.”
Kelsey pulls out her phone. “I have time. I can walk from here. It’s not that far.”
Stephanie slows as she comes to a four-way stop sign—one of three, and this is supposed to be a shortcut—and, once she determines no other cars are nearby, she rolls on through the crosswalk and accelerates.